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fiction

Out Out

I was desperate for a CVS, but instead found one of those birds—long neck bent like a spring, beak like a spear, caw like a motor that won’t turn over—wading in somebody’s blue blow-up pool.

Secondhand Bursts

We’d arrived at the age of irrelevance, the lot of us – except for Daphne, who was not yet 30 – so it was important to acknowledge we were still alive, among the living.

Team

Jerry wasn’t the type for small talk, but it was so quiet, you could hear our silverware echo off the tiled floor and backsplash.